


Anchor

by nightwalker



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, First Time, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwalker/pseuds/nightwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony realizes what’s about to happen at the exact moment that Steve’s eyes are drawn to the dark black print.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchor

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Anchor 沉锚/ 停泊，原作： nightwalker](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5882488) by [alienswest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienswest/pseuds/alienswest)



> **Warning:** This story contains references to a character considering suicide in the past. No actual attempt was made and both characters are alive and healthy at the end. Please use your discretion.

Tony knows why, on both sides. He knows why he was driven to it: It's because he was young, struggling with neglect and burgeoning alcoholism and depression, alone in every way that had mattered to him at the time. And he knows why he chose what he chose: Because Steve Rogers was just a scrawny, sick guy and he managed to change the world. If Tony can be half the man Steve was, then he can be proud of himself. He doesn't even think of his father when he makes the decision to get Steve Rogers name, rank and serial number tattooed on his hip. It has, for once, _nothing_ to do with Howard.

And for years, when he gets low he looks at that tattoo in the mirror.

When he meets Steve, he thinks about covering it up, getting something inked over it. It’s a little weird now, after all. But it means even more to him now that he’s met the man. Now that Steve is his _friend_ , that they change the world together. Sometimes at night when he can’t sleep, Tony puts his hand over his hip and presses down hard, like he can keep himself anchored and on track if he can just hold onto it tight enough.

The first time Steve comes to his bed Tony forgets - he _forgets_ \- until Steve has slid a hand under the elastic band of Tony’s boxers and is sliding them down his hip. Tony realizes what’s about to happen at the exact moment that Steve’s eyes are drawn to the dark black print. And he explains, in a quiet, shaky voice, how sixteen-year-old Tony had spent a long, cold night choosing between a tumbler of whiskey with a dozen crushed sleeping pills mixed in, or having to face his father for another day. How eventually he’d found the stomach to pour the whiskey down the toilet. How he’d spent most of the next day on the floor of Rhodey’s dorm, his friend wrapped around him like a blanket. How he’d had to bribe a tattoo artist to work on him - underage and hungover - but Rhodey hadn’t objected once, just stood there and held Tony’s hand the entire fucking time, like he knew Tony was trying to grab onto something before he fell.

He tells Steve about the way the words are stark and unforgiving under the bright lights of the bathroom. He tells Steve how he’s held onto them so tight that he’s amazed they haven’t bled into his palm.

"I know it’s weird," Tony says. He hasn’t been able to look Steve in the eyes once since he started talking. Instead he focuses on the soft blond hair on Steve’s chest and the way Steve’s fingers have curled around his hip, till Steve’s palm is pressed gently over the tattoo. "It - I thought about having it removed or something, once you came back. I got it before I knew you, but. It meant even more to me. After. Knowing who you really were. Knowing that you thought I was… a good person."

"Okay," Steve says softly, and Tony finally dares to meet his gaze. Steve’s eyes are bright and if they’re a little damp, Tony can pretend it’s the moonlight playing tricks on him. "Okay. It’s - I’m glad. That you found some kind of comfort in me, even then. And - I am so fucking glad you had Rhodey." He kissed Tony’s temple, then his cheekbone. "I think you’re a good person," he said, his breath warm on Tony’s cheek. "I think you’re brave and kind and generous and so goddamn strong. I love you," he says and he presses his palm against Tony’s hip, digs his fingers in just enough that they’ll leave a bruise. "I love you. I love you. Swear to me, that whenever you see this thing, you’ll remember I love you."

Tony laughs, the shaky kind of laugh that means he’s not far from tears. “How could I ever think of anything else?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just takes Tony’s mouth in a kiss as deep as it is slow. He presses Tony down onto the bed.

He doesn’t let go. And in the morning, when Tony looks in the mirror, Steve’s handprint is purpling across his hip, covering the old black print, but not obscuring it.


End file.
